I believe (perhaps wrongly, but I don't think so) Stephen King to be the greatest storyteller since Dickens. Yes I know, he doesn't always get it right (neither did Dickens) and he had the whole "my drugs hell" period (ditto Dickens - the Tommyknockers and Our Mutual Friend have a lot in common) but my god the man knows how to tell a story and, almost as importantly, how to sell that story by the bucketload.

This book is part memoir, part irreverent writing guide, part "oh shit I got hit by a van half way through writing this and EVERYTHING changed" and most importantly (unlike so many "how to" writing books) utterly readable.

Ultimately he believes if you put the story first over style, get rid of the passive tense, and develop a rhinoceros skin you are well on your way.

Pithy, funny and ever so-slightly macabre, but who would have expected anything less?

Love him or loathe him (and he does seem to be like marmite on that front), he does know what he's talking about. I would tell every aspiring novelist to think about reading this one. It took me ten years to get around to reading it simply because I prefer reading his fiction to thinking up fiction of my own!